Ah what the hell, I needed a new writing prompt-
Dean's never known exactly why he joined Tinder. Half the time he gets messages it turns out to be a poorly constructed catfish asking him for money, though sometimes he gets lucky- Meets a nice gal, gets some drinks, wakes up the next morning in someone else's bed. Really, he's had some fantastic hookups, but none of them have ever gone past that.
But Dean's getting a little bored- Bored, not ‘lonely’, no matter how much Sam insists he is- in his intimate life, so he keeps swiping.
Last week he even turned off his gender preferences, why not? There's been some unsolicited dick picks sent to him that make him feel the need to apologize to every woman in his life on behalf of men, and a couple more obvious catfishes (Have two catfishes ever matched? What are those conversations even like? Just a back and forth volley of “No I’ll drive to your location if you give me $800 for gas” until one of them breaks?), and now Dean's made a game of the profiles he swipes through while drinking his morning coffee.
1 point for a group photo with no specifications as to who is the one with the profile, 2 points for any chick with blonde highlights and a “-lynn” tacked onto her name, 2 points for a dude holding a fish as though that's the sexiest thing on earth (“Hey folks, I can kill an animal in two whacks, come spend time with me alone.”), so on and so forth.
He swipes left on “Micheal, 45, Looking for: Someone who will stay home while I manage our affairs-” and nearly chokes on his drink.
Dean honestly thought he's seen all types of photos already, but this is a new one. A man standing on a dock, looking completely seriously- too seriously for a man wearing brightly colored swim shorts- towards the second person in the photo, though Dean thinks he sees the hint of a smile pulling at his mouth. One hand is on his hip, and the other is wrapped around the ankle of a little blonde boy that seems to be having the time of his life, dangling upside down in the man's hold
This is the classic 2-pointer ‘man with fish’, except the fish has never been in the middle of a fit of giggles, his little sunhat just barely handing onto his head with the chin strap.
Dean can't say he’s not intrigued by ‘Castiel, 34, Looking for: My brother to stop pestering me about my romantic life- Please do not inquire unless you are comfortable with kids.’.
He snorts and swipes through the rest of Castiel's photos, most of them following the same pattern of him and the blonde boy out doing , though the kids' feet are on the ground in these pictures.
He's not sure why he doesn't swipe left, this doesn't seem like the kind of guy who’d be down for a quick hookup, and Dean knows from first-hand experience that casual relationships where there's also a kid involved are messy.
But he still swipes right, almost dropping his phone when it blares out a happy, chiming tone.